


Like Only A Loser Can

by squipport



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Squip, Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, Autistic Jeremy Heere, Bullying, Deaf Character, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Genderqueer Character, Genderqueer Jake Dillinger, Jake Dillinger has ADHD, Love Confessions, Love Letters, M/M, Misunderstandings, Panic Attacks, Pansexual Jake Dillinger, Pansexual Jeremy Heere, Pining, Self-Esteem Issues, Trans Jeremy Heere, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2018-12-25 10:58:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12034482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squipport/pseuds/squipport
Summary: “my love note got handed to the wrong person” au -sourceJeremy writes Christine a love letter. Jake is the one who receives it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I listened to Will Connolly's album _Caterpillars of the Commonwealth_ while writing this and I highly recommend it
> 
> Jeremy is pining after Christine in this fic, just like the musical & book, and it is mentioned, but it is not the ship for this fic. There is also at least one reference to the book in this.
> 
> **WARNING** I headcanon Jeremy with (General) Anxiety Disorder, which show up in this fic in the form of panic attacks and self-deprecating language. It's upsetting to me to write these things, so I think a warning is in order in case you're also sensitive to those kinds of things. 
> 
> **WARNING** I'm not ignoring the fact that Jake (and Rich) were Jeremy's bullies in this fic. Jake's actions are addressed in this and dealt with, and the way this story handles the issue isn't necessarily how I think these matters should always be handled in real life, since real life bullies don't always better themselves and see the faults in their actions. For the sake of this fic, a bully works to become a better person and is forgiven.
> 
> Special thank you to @[browsdraws](http://browsdraws.tumblr.com) for fixing the warning messages for me
> 
> I've rambled on that too long. I hope y'all enjoy the fic !

“I wrote Christine a love letter, telling her how I feel.”

“That’s progress!”

“I can’t give it to her.”

“Wha- dude, why not?”

“It’s embarrassing!” Jeremy nervously exclaimed, already feeling an ugly blush forming. “What if she thinks it’s creepy, or weird, or-or she hates me and never wants to see me again and I’ll have to move because going to the same school as me upsets her so much, or-”

“Jeremy.”

He stops, and breathes. Michael puts a hand on his shoulder, squeezes, then takes him gently by the elbow and leads him out of the cafeteria. Jeremy keeps his eyes trained on the ground as they walk, focusing on his breathing and rubbing over his heart diagonally to keep himself calm. When they stop, he looks up; they’re outside.

“Feel better, dude?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

They don’t sit (Michael knows that sitting on the grass makes Jeremy anxious for a variety of reasons – bugs, stains, what if people _stare_ , Michael), but they do stand beneath a tree just at the edge of the school’s property, out of the way and mostly overlooked by other students.

“Okay, so, we’ve established you can’t give it to her,” Michael starts. Jeremy nods. “What if someone else gave it to her? Or you gave it to her indirectly- you could slip it in her locker!”

Jeremy continues rubbing his chest as before while he thinks it over. Michael starts listening to Bob Marley again while he waits.

“That... could work? Maybe. I-I don’t think I could put it in her locker – she might see –, but maybe if someone else did? It could be fine?” Jeremy says, finally, clearing his throat when his nervous statement-turned-question has his voice cracking. “But you’re really the only person I could ask, dude, and I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“Then don’t. Just give me the note, and put it out of mind.”

Jeremy takes a deep breath, exhales slowly through his mouth, then nods before sliding his hand into his pocket and pulling out the folded up note he had written earlier on impulse.

“Just... don’t read it, okay?”

“No promises!” Michael says, his voice light to make sure Jeremy knows that he’s only kidding, calling it over his shoulder as he jogs back to the doors, note in hand and bell ringing in the background signalling the end of break.

\- - -

The problem with Michael having the note, with Michael being responsible for the delivery and general responsibility of possessing the note, is that Jeremy can’t stop thinking about it. Logically, he knows that it should be fine. Michael won’t read it, Michael won’t lose it, Michael won’t photocopy it and post it all over the school for everyone to read and laugh about and-

Michael won’t do that. He wouldn’t.

...

Or would he?

Jeremy couldn’t get these what-ifs out of his head, they consumed him for the rest of the day. And when it was time for his final class of the day, the one class he shares with Christine? By that point, he was on the brink of a panic attack and seeing the back of her head from his place at the far of the room was too much. Had Michael put the note in her locker yet? Had she seen it? Read it? Did she know that Jeremy was deeply, embarrassingly, pathetically in love with her? Did she hate him?

Jeremy left as quickly as he could, a mumbled excuse of stomach problems when he passed by Mr. Gretch’s desk, and went to hide in the bathroom until school was up and he could go home without his dad asking why he was early.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Hold it. Rub the space above his heart. Breathe out. Try not to have a meltdown in a bathroom stall when anyone could walk in and hear him. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe.

Someone enters the bathroom. Jeremy holds his breathe and lifts his feet up onto the seat – _just in case_. Whoever it is washes their hands, or at the very least runs the taps, and then is leaving soon after. Jeremy waits, counting to ten in his head, to make sure they’re gone. He then slowly exhales, places his feet on the ground, and stands. He’d wait for school to end under the tree instead, where he was less likely to get caught.

He turns left when leaving the bathroom, and instantly regrets it. _Why didn’t I go right? You can get outside just as easily to the right. I should have gone right. Why didn’t I? Why? Why why why?_

Jeremy knows what he looks like; the nervous, too gangly, loser of a boy leaving the washroom, face red – with break out, exertion, and the telltale signs of someone who was trying not to cry and failing – and dark circles under his eyes, the stress of the last few hours exhausting him. He looks like a freak, a creep, a nobody getting worked up over nothing.

So of course, upon leaving the bathroom, he just had to walk straight into Jake _fucking_ Dillinger.

Jake Dillinger who is tall, but never gangly, Jake who is sure in himself and confident and let’s everyone know with the way he holds himself and the way he walks and just his general _presence_. Jake, who is handsome and popular and a jock, because you couldn’t get more stereotypical. Jake, who unlike Jeremy has never had to worry about a girl returning his feelings, or worry about girls at all, really, because Jake Dillinger is so handsome and popular and perfect that he can get with any girl he wants – and he does.

And Jeremy just walked into him, like only a loser can.

“Sorry,” Jeremy mumbles, only barely stuttering as he moves to step around Jake. It couldn’t be that simple.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going, geek!” Jake is loud, and Jeremy is thankful that the hall is empty – this situation is embarrassing enough, witnesses would make it worse. He shoves Jeremy just enough to stop him, turned facing towards Jake rather than the safety of the other end of the hall. “I swear Heere, if-”

Jake doesn’t finish his sentence. Jeremy waits, thinking maybe it’s a weird, dramatic pause, only Jake’s pauses are never weird. Hesitantly, he glances up, and can’t believe what he’s seeing.

Jake Dillinger, who is confident and sure of himself and popular, red in the face and avoiding Jeremy’s eye.

“Come with me,” Jake demands, leaving no room to argue as he grabs the top of Jeremy’s arm, just under his armpit, and leads him outside – taking the right exit, because of course.

They’re outside, and this is it. Jeremy is sure that this is when Jake’s bullying becomes more than the occasional insult or mockery hurled his way. It always happens, according to the anti-bullying ads; eventually, it escalates, and it becomes physical.

“Jake, I, ha, I’m really sorry, I-I didn’t see you a-and it was a mistake, you know? I’ll be more careful in the future, it won’t happen again, and-” Jeremy continues to ramble, and Jake says nothing. Jeremy trails off, out of words and too out of breathe with panic to speak even had he them.

A nervous glance up; Jeremy sees Jake considering a note in his hands. He still has red across his cheeks.

Finally, he speaks:

“You wrote this?”

When Jeremy doesn’t answer, Jake loosely punches his shoulder to get him to look up and shows him the note. “This is you, right? Jeremy Heere?”

He has to squint to read it, so far from his face and shaking in Jake’s grip, but he immediately recognizes his hand writing.

That’s... no. No no no no no.

Jeremy takes the note from Jake’s hand and holds it right up to his eyes, sure he must be reading it wrong. But there it is, clear as anything.

The note he wrote Christine.

In Jake’s possession.

He wants to cry, or throw up, or run away and never be seen again, or die. All of the above. He thinks, in this moment, that he’s never been so mortified, and terrified for what this means Jake could do with this information.

“Hey- woah, don’t cry!” Jake exclaims, hands fluttering near Jeremy’s shoulders, unsure, before deciding to go for it. ‘It’ being pulling Jeremy into a hug. “This is like, the nicest thing I’ve ever read, dude? Like, just the nicest thing in general? I think I fell in love with you a bit reading this, which is, ha ha, that’s crazy right? But what I’m trying to say is! I’m like, super confused and flattered, but totally, I think, into you too now that you’ve put your feelings out there?”

Being in the embrace of one’s bully while crying is, objectively, not the best position to be in, but Jeremy found himself calming down despite this. Jake was warm, and strong, and smelled nice. It was just enough pressure to keep Jeremy grounded without being overwhelming.

Had Jake not been so perfect and, strangely considering his relationship with Jeremy, soothing, Jeremy might have been too upset to understand what he was saying.

Well, even having calmed down he couldn’t understand it.

Nothing about this situation was making sense. Jake was his bully – he was supposed to have brought Jeremy out here to beat him up, not confront him about some note and then...

_I think I fell in love with you..._

This... nothing about this was making sense. This couldn’t be happening; it had to be some weird dream. Just some nightmare from the stress of having his note delivered to Christine.

He pulls himself out of Jake’s hug, barely looking to him as he steps back (but barely doesn’t mean not at all – Jake is still perfect, even with his face red and with an expression that could only be a combination of nervous and excitement) heading, hopefully, towards the doors that would take him back inside.

“I- um, I have to go. My, um, ride? I have to find my ride home, um... bye,” Jeremy mumbles, half expecting Jake to stop him. He fumbles for the door handle and only glances back briefly before heading in in search of Michael.

The disappointment on Jake’s face has him stumble, but he doesn’t stop.


	2. Chapter 2

“Jeremy!”

Jeremy jumps and whirls around to find the source of the noise, only for Michael to collide into him, pulling him into a hug.

“Dude! Are you okay!? I saw Jake take you outside, I didn’t know what to do! You’re not hurt are you?” Michael asks, pulling back to look over Jeremy for injury.

“I’m... I want to go home,” Jeremy mumbles, suddenly exhausted; today had been a lot to take in.

Michael nods and leads him out of the school with a hand resting around Jeremy’s shoulders, taking the front entrance so as to not risk another meeting with Jake. They have to walk off school property and up to the side street that Michael parks his Cruiser, parking passes being reserved for seniors, but Jeremy doesn’t notice the time in between leaving the school and getting into Michael’s car.

“Dude, you look like shit. Did he... fuck, do I have to call my mom, Jeremy? Did he hurt you?” Michael worries, already pulling out his phone.

Jeremy shakes his head no and closes his eyes for a second. With a sigh, he musters the energy to reply: “I’m just tired, dude. I... today has been long, and weird.”

Michael doesn’t reply as he starts the car and puts it into drive, getting a few blocks away from the school. Jeremy notices that they’re not headed for his house, but doesn’t say anything.

“Call my mom,” Michael says, nearly five minutes later while waiting at a stop light.

“I’m- no, Michael I’m fine, I don’t need-”

“You need to tell her that I’m going to your place to make you dinner; I’m driving so I can’t call.”

“But-”

“You have to call the nurses desk; she won’t have her phone.”

Jeremy groans and leans forward to put his head between his knees, rubbing his hands over his shins despite the bad texture of his jeans in an effort to calm down.

“You can do it, Jeremiah! Believe in the me that believes in you,” Michael says from above him, tapping Jeremy with his cell before letting it drop to the ground near his feet so he could get back to ten-and-two.

Jeremy stays folded over his lap as he grabs the phone, hesitating over the call button for the contact ‘ma (work)’ for a solid two minutes before pressing it. Phone to his ear, he only makes it to one ring before hanging up and starting again. This time he makes it to someone picking up, but he ends the call again before they can even say ‘hello’.

Michael’s phone beeps in his hand and a notification for a text pops up.

Jeremy groans again, mortified that his phone habits were enough to tip Ms. Mell to his identity. He gives it a minute, then texts back; texting would always be easier than a phone call.

“You said she wouldn’t have her phone,” Jeremy grumbles after relaying the conversation to Michael.

“Well,” Michael starts, shrugging slightly as he pulls into a parking space at the local “greengrocer” he frequents. “She keeps it on silent? So, basically the same thing.”

Jeremy keeps complaining about the duplicity, the betrayal, the _treachery_ , as they head into the store. Michael ignores him and hands him a sack of potatoes, shutting Jeremy up as he adjusts to the sudden weight in his arms.

They stroll through the store in silence, Michael adding a few things to his basket every now and then. He’d been shopping here for years with his grandparents, but only recently started bringing Jeremy along too. It was a place that comforted both of them, though neither could really explain why.

The line is short, as it often is on Mondays. Michael loads his groceries onto the counter and chats with the cashier while she rings him through, and Jeremy leaves them to wander around for just a little while longer. On his way back, he grabs one of the big cookies that the store makes in house and slides it across the counter; it’s a move that’s meant to be sneaky while at the same time being obvious enough to give Michael opportunity to tell him to put it back. He doesn’t.

Groceries run through and paid, Jeremy is tasked with carrying the potatoes out to the car and Michael all the bagged items.

Celery, carrots, parsnips, onions, garlic, eggs...

Jeremy pieces together what Michael is planning and bounces a little with excitement before getting back into the car.

“Dude, you’re making kreplach!?”

“Cookie for the smart cookie,” is Michael’s response, retrieving the cookie from one of the bags and handing it to Jeremy. As Jeremy works to carefully remove the saran wrap without breaking his prize, Michael starts driving towards the Heere house. There’s only a bite left when they arrive and Jeremy offers it to Michael before polishing it off when he declines.

They bring the groceries in, Jeremy going ahead of Michael to unlock the door before helping. Jeremy drops the bag of potatoes on the floor as soon as he’s in the kitchen, breathing shallowly but quiet through his mouth so as to not let on how out of breath he is. Lady chirrup’s from somewhere and Jeremy can hear the tingling of her bell before she’s turning circles around his legs.

Before he can start giving the ragamuffin cat the attention she deserves, Michael gets his attention with a “damn bitch, you live like this?” gesturing to the kitchen as a whole around them. Jeremy blushes, having forgotten about the dishes piled in the sink, microwave meal containers littering the counter, and pots of cooking attempts still full and abandoned on the stove.

He opens his mouth to speak, but Michael holds up a hand to stop him. He looks around again, sighs, then starts unpacking the groceries.

“I cook, you clean,” Michael declares, and Jeremy doesn’t argue, just quickly scratches under Lady’s chin before getting to work clearing the stove for Michael.

Michael sets up in the dining room to start the dough. The two boys could still see each other, but they don’t talk while they work individually. Michael slides his headphones over his ears and listens to music while he combines flour, eggs, salt, and oil into a bowl, and Jeremy clears the counters and takes care of anything else that can just be thrown away before bringing the garbage out, letting Lady outside in the process.

While he’s working on the dishes, pots set aside to soak with hot water and soap, Michael comes back to the kitchen to start the broth and filling. Michael uses chicken broth from a box and adds the carrots, celery, parsnips, and spices to the pot before dicing the potatoes and onions to sauté in a frying pan. Jeremy starts hand-drying dishes when the dish rack becomes overfull.

Even having been soaking all this time, the pots are still a bitch to clean. Jeremy spends the rest of the time before dinner scrubbing at them and doing his best to clean them, despite the ache in his shoulders; it was mortifying that he let Michael see his house like this, he can’t give up on trying to right his image. Michael quietly starts sweeping the floor while Jeremy isn’t paying attention, filling and broth done but dough still needing time before he can roll it out.

He’s just starting on the last pot when Michael taps him on the shoulder, causing Jeremy to jump and splash water on the floor.

“Shit, sorry,” they say in unison.

“Dinner’s ready,” Michael says, going back to the dining room to dish out servings while Jeremy quickly mops up the mess with paper towel. Neither of the boys make a move to invite Jeremy’s dad to join them, who has spent all this time napping on the living room couch.

They talk about nothing while they eat: homework, music, Michael’s family, how much gym class sucks.

They don’t talk about Christine.

Or Jake.

Jeremy’s still thinking about it, though, and wondering if he imagined it all. Maybe he heard of something similar happening to another student, and accidentally got it all mixed up in his head.

It was just too weird to have happened to him.

They finish eating. Michael stores the leftovers in the fridge and puts the clean dishes away while Jeremy cleans the dishes he and Michael used. Even if today was super weird, he already felt better just spending time with his best friend. The comfort food had definitely helped too.

“So,” Michael starts later, when they’re up in Jeremy’s room playing video games. “Can we talk about earlier now?”

“Earlier?” Jeremy stutters, grip slipping on the controller.

“With Jake,” Michael clarifies. Jeremy responds with a desperate, uncomfortable whine, clearly upset with the topic. “Dude, I know, but that’s the point. You were super out of it when you came back in, I need to know what happened.”

“N-nothing. I don’t- I don’t know? It doesn’t make sense,” Jeremy eventually mutters after several attempts to start. The game is paused at this point, and Jeremy won’t look at Michael as he pets Lady, asleep in his lap, in an effort to calm down.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to tell Michael – they were best friends, they told each other everything and this was no different. But he’s still convinced that it couldn’t have happened the way he remembers it. It was too out there; even if he found the right words to describe what had happened, it’s so far fetched that Michael wouldn’t be able to believe it.

“Just... start from the beginning?” Michael suggests, laying down his controller and turning to give Jeremy his full attention.

Jeremy takes a deep breath and slowly exhales before starting. He tells Michael how he left class (although he glosses over how bad his panic attack was), how he was going to wait at their spot and ran into Jake, how Jake got weird and brought him outside, then...

“And then I don’t know,” he says, briefly looking at Michael for just a second. “It... it really doesn’t make sense. He... mm. He had my letter, I don’t- he had my letter, and I got upset and then... he hugged me? And...”

_I think I fell in love with you..._

Jeremy feels his face go hot and turns his face away from Michael so he won’t see, hiding in the shoulder of his cardigan.

“He hugged you?” Michael repeats, and Jeremy can hear the disbelief in his voice. Then, “wait, your letter? What letter?”

“The one I wrote Christine,” he mumbles, still hiding in his shirt.

“The one you... oh shit.”

“What?”

Michael doesn’t answer right away, and Jeremy, despite the warmth still in his cheeks, looks to his best friend again. Michael has a hand covering his mouth and won’t quite meet Jeremy’s eyes, all in all looking as uncomfortable as Jeremy feels.

“I,” he eventually starts again, voice muffled from where he won’t lower his hand, “may have had to guess... which was Christine’s locker.”

“...”

“...”

“So, you...”

“So... I kind of just. Put it in one and felt like... eighty percent sure it was the right one...”

“But... Jake had it, so... so...”

“So...”

They stare at each other for a minute, twin expressions of fear and regret.

“Dude,” Jeremy mumbles eventually.

“I know!” Michael exclaims, pushing hair out of his face. “Dude, ho-oly shit, I’m so sorry. I... shit, that’s my bad. Fuck!”

“He’s going to ruin my life,” Jeremy groans. Then he laughs, only a little hysterical. “He – ha! He said he’s in love with me, Michael, he’s such a dick!”

“Dude! What the fuck! Doesn’t he have anything better to do than mock you?” Michael asks, laughing along and throwing an arm around Jeremy’s shoulder.

They stay that way for a couple minutes, calming down for a moment only to look at each other and start giggling all over again. When they do finally calm, Jeremy groans again and Michael pats his shoulder reassuringly.

“He’s going to ruin my _life_ ,” he repeats, now hiding his face in Michael’s hoodie.

“Just keep trying to avoid him as always, dude,” Michael says, patting Jeremy’s back now. “He’s a dick, we know that, but he’ll eventually get bored of it and leave it alone and go back to the regular stuff.”

“And Christine?” he mumbles. “Jake has the note, Michael. What if he shows Christine? Or... how am I supposed to do anything about her now?”

Michael is quiet while he thinks, then pulls Jeremy off him so he can look the other in the eye.

“The play! I saw her sign up for it when we left the cafeteria. You could sign up too, get to know her, and work up the courage to actually talk to her; way better than some note!”

“And Jake?”

“Forget Jake! Rehearsals are after school and he never bothers us then since he has _sports_. It’s perfect, dude!”

Jeremy mulls it over and nods, then grimaces.

“The play means... acting, and... people watching me on stage, though...”

“It also means,” Michael says, whispering now and wagging his eyebrows. “Arranging private hang out’s with C~h~r~i~s~t~i~n~e~ to practice lines.”

Jeremy blushes and hides his face with his hands, muffling his squeal.

“Why, Mr. Heere, I _never_ ,” Michael tuts, shit eating grin audible as he pokes Jeremy in the side. “Get that mind out of the gutter, boy.”

“I can’t,” he whines, smiling despite his embarrassment.

“You can’t,” Michael agrees, arm around Jeremy’s shoulders once again. “So, you have a plan?”

Jeremy nods, face still warm and hidden from Michael’s view.

Tomorrow he would sign up for the play, social standing consequences be damned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is kind of filler, but it is a bridge chapter. Jake will be back next chapter and we'll really get into it !  
> Sorry this took so long; I kept hitting roadblocks + have been busy with work and other projects.  
> Speaking of other projects ! I started an ask blog please check it out @[radsquip](http://radsquip.tumblr.com/)


	3. Chapter 3

Signing up was the easy part. Getting up early, walking to school, and signing a sheet with his name before anyone was wandering the halls? No sweat.

The hard part was the follow through.

“C-c-c-c’mon,” he muttered to himself, shaking his hands out and bouncing just a little bit in front of the doors for play rehearsal.

“You don’t have to do this,” Michael tells him, patting his shoulder briefly before pulling him closer. “Of course, I’ll mock you forever if you don’t.”

Jeremy laughs sarcastically and pushes Michael away. He’s about to go through the motions of psyching himself up again, when he notices Michael start to leave.

“Hey, uh, where you going?”

“Uh, robotics?” Michael replies, thumb pointing over his shoulder down the hall.

“You’re not, uh,” his voice cracks and he clears his throat, “you’re not signing up for the play too?”

“Jeremy,” Michael sighs, taking the few steps back over to place his hand on his shoulder again. “You want to talk to Christine, right?”

Jeremy nods.

“Are you going to talk to Christine if I’m there?”

He shrugs, not meeting Michael’s eyes.

“Jeremy.”

“...no,” he sighs.

“So how would me staying help you?”

“...it wouldn’t...”

“Exactly! You can do this Jeremy, I believe in you!” Michael declares, beaming. Then before Jeremy knows it, he’s being pushed forward and through the cafeteria doors. He whirls around, but he can see through the open-shut of the door that Michael has already retreated down the hall.

“Yo!”

Jeremy turns towards the stage at the far end of the cafeteria and there, on one of the chairs set up in a semi circle, is Christine.

“Uh, yo,” he responds, smiling nervously and making a motion that’s too awkward to be considered a wave. “Um, is this where you meet for the play?”

“Nope! This is where you meet for the swim team,” she replies, and Jeremy stops dead in his tracks towards the stage. “...I’m joking.”

“O-oh,” he laughs nervously as he climbs the stairs. “Well... I’m Jeremy!”

Christine doesn’t respond right away, so Jeremy starts thinking of excuses to leave, excuses to drop out of school, excuses to move to the next state over...

“Are you okay?” she finally asks. Jeremy’s only response is to hum in distress, and she gives him a pitying look as she pats the seat next to her. “You seem... nervous.”

“No, I...” he mumbles, keeping a seat between them as he sits. “...always sweat this much?”

“I get it. You’re a virgin,” she says with a shrug, either ignoring or oblivious to Jeremy’s spluttering. “First play rehearsal!”

Jeremy clears his throat and holds back an anxious giggle. “You think I’m nervous about play rehearsal?”

“Why else would you be shaking? A lot?”

“Yeah, totally freaked,” he responds with a laugh, look away as he rubs the back of his neck.

Christine adjusts her chair slightly to better face Jeremy.

“It’s okay. I’m a little jealous, actually,” she says with a wistful sigh and a half shrug. “You never forget your first play rehearsal. Coming here is the highlight of my-”

“Of your day?” Jeremy interrupts, feeling his nerves give way to a smile as he realizes how natural this feels.

“Yeah, right!” Christine laughs, beaming. “More like of my _life!_ I~”

Christine is interrupted by a loud bang. The two swivel in panic towards the source of the noise – the doors thrown open wide by Mr. Reyes, flanked by several students.

“The popular students have arrived!” he announces, voice over-loud and over-the-top just as Jeremy remembers it from drama class. Mr. Reyes makes his way to the stage, students in tow, and as they approach their identities are made clear.

He recognizes Jenna and Chloe from his math class, and Brooke because she’s always waiting for them when class gets out. Jenna is texting and occasionally chiming in on the other girls’ conversation. Behind them is Rich, who Jeremy can only see because of the height advantage the stage gives him.

Finally, the last student following Mr. Reyes, smile wide and arm waving frantically above his head as he abandons Rich’s side to run up the side of the stage rather than wait for the stairs, is Jake Dillinger.

“Jeremy!”

“Oh, no.”

“Is that Jake Dillinger? You know Jake Dillinger?”

“Uh...”

Before he can collect his thoughts, Jake is sitting in the seat to his right. Jenna sits next to him, Chloe then Brooke following. Rich takes the seat between Jeremy and Christine, despite there being seats to Christine’s left remaining. Rich crosses his arms and keeps his eyes forward, ignoring Jeremy’s existence and giving off a vibe that screams PISSED OFF. Jeremy flinches and scoots his chair as far from Rich’s as he can, but that only places him closer to Jake, which... isn’t ideal either.

Mr. Reyes is talking – something about Shakespeare, zombies, and hot pockets. Jeremy isn’t really listening, having trouble making out the words past the _thump-thump-thump_ whooshing in his ears.

“Hey, Jeremy.”

Jeremy jolts up with a start, tripping over his chair and falling into Rich’s in the progress. Thankfully, Rich wasn’t in it; it seems that at some point when he wasn’t paying attention the others left the cafeteria, Christine and Mr. Reyes included.

“You okay, dude?” Jake asks, concerned expression looking almost sincere on his perfect face as he gets up to offer Jeremy a hand.

He wants to hit it away, wants to be that guy that’s cool and knows what to say and do and have the follow through... he settles for getting to his feet on his own.

“Listen, Jake...”

“Jeremy, can we talk?”

They start in unison, and Jake laughs. Jeremy crosses his arms and looks towards the cafeteria doors, dismissing Jake while keeping an exit in mind.

“Jeremy... I’m sorry.”

He glances at Jake briefly, but doesn’t turn towards him.

He also doesn’t leave.

“Could you please forgive me just enough to hear me out, Jeremy Heere?”

The problem with Jake Dillinger was that he was charismatic. He was a bully and a jerk, Jeremy’s tormentor since freshman year... but he was good with words, and handsome, and the vibe he gave off, despite all this, was of someone you could trust.

Jeremy knew it was a bad idea, but he still found himself turning just a little and nodding.

Jake smiled, something like relief in his eyes, and it was brilliant.

“Awesome! Thank you, dude,” he says, approaching Jeremy and clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Do you mind if we go back outside to talk?”

Jeremy shakes his head and Jake begins to lead him back out to the same spot of their previous confrontation the day before. As they leave the cafeteria, they pass Rich in the hall. He goes for the high-five, but Jake doesn’t seem to notice. Jeremy turns to look at him as they round a corner, and gulps, looking away quickly from the stormy expression on his face.

It’s a nice enough day, if a little chilly. The sky is cloudy, but just enough to keep the sun from being over-bright. They’re alone, but can hear the after school football practice from here.

“Why did you leave yesterday?” Jake starts, expression neutral.

“I, uh, I needed to find my ride? I said that, I think,” he mumbles. Jake frowns and Jeremy looks away, nerves spiking.

“Jeremy, look at me. Please.”

He takes a deep breath and slowly exhales before looking at Jake, forcing himself to not glance away again.

“I’m going to tell you something I haven’t told anyone else,” he says, laughing a little before continuing. “Well, besides my therapist. Is that okay?”

His therapist?

Jeremy nods slowly, and Jake smiles, but it’s more muted than his usual smiles and Jeremy wonders if he’s nervous.

“I need you to look at me and speak up when you talk to me, okay?” he says, and flicks the air just under his right ear twice. “I’m... hard of hearing. Do you understand?”

He nods again, then registers what’s going on and shakes his head.

“Why are you telling me this?”

He shrugs, still smiling, and takes a step closer to Jeremy.

“I’ve... read your note a lot and I’ve realized two things. It’s not about me is it?”

Jeremy examines Jake’s expression for a good minute for signs of anger before hesitantly agreeing.

“That’s okay! Sucks, but it makes more sense than you having feelings for me. Doesn’t change mine though.”

“What?”

“Those are the two things I know, Jeremy Heere. That your note wasn’t for me... and that I’m still a little in love with you.”

“What!?”

Jake takes another step closer and keeps his eyes on Jeremy’s, who is unable to look away. He tries to jerk his hand away when he feels something brush it, but Jake is already holding it and he can’t get away.

He can feel his heart pounding in his chest and has to fight to keep his breaths even and deep.

“Jeremy Heere... I don’t expect you to forgive me or to return my feelings... not after everything I’ve done to you. And I’m truly sorry for that. I’ve been meaning to apologize since the beginning on the year but... habits, heh,” Jake says, looking away for just a moment and... Jeremy found himself believing in his remorse despite everything. “If you want me to stay away, that’s okay and... I will. But I wish you would let me at least try to make up for everything I’ve done. I want to be your friend, at the least. What do you say?”

Jeremy opens his mouth to say something, though he’s not sure what, but no sound comes out. He shakes his head and Jake frowns, but true to his word he releases Jeremy and steps away.

“W-wait,” Jeremy exclaims, just as Jake is passing him to go back inside. He doesn’t grab him, but he does tap his arm to get his attention.

Jake stops and looks at him again, and Jeremy can tell that he’s fighting to keep his expression neutral, but he thinks that he can still see sadness there. And hope.

“I... let me think about it, okay?”

Jake grins, and everything about him was perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long ! I've been busy with trying to work on other projects, works, spoons, and figuring out my move ! Which !! I'm moving tomorrow !! And I won't have internet until I get a second job so I don't know when this will update again...  
> Also the sign Jake uses isn't ASL, jsyk  
> And yes, the last line in the fic is a reference to something else  
> Finally, it’s still a wip but I started a [playlist inspired by this fic](http://www.squipport.tumblr.com/playloser)

**Author's Note:**

> If y'all enjoyed that please kudos & comment ! I'm also taking requests for the time being on my [tumblr](http://squipport.tumblr.com/post/165120046109/squipport-send-me-writing-prompts-i-wanna)
> 
> Honestly, it's been a while since I've written anything so constructive criticism on my style & anything you think I could improve on/do differently would be greatly appreciated
> 
> Also, this was supposed to be short, but Jeremy and Jake are my favourite BMC characters so this got out of hand and I'm going to use this fic as an opportunity to explore these characters and a lot of my HCs for them
> 
> Title subject to change


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